Birthday Wishes
by Irene Claire
Summary: For Komodo Queen: Wishes for a very happy birthday! Steve gets it in his head to bake - from scratch - a special cake for Danny's birthday - the Funfetti Cake Batter Cookie Dough Brownie Layer Cake. Will he succeed?
1. Chapter 1

**I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.**

 **Notes: For Komodo Queen as a very Happy Birthday present. Posted in short snippets until done!**

 **H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 **Birthday Wishes**

He could do this. He _could_. He was a Navy SEAL for goodness sake – trained with the utmost of skill.

He was manually dexterous; mentally sharp.

Always on his game and hardly ever bested.

There was no way on earth that Lieutenant Commander Steve McGarrett, a decorated member of the military, would allow a few lousy ingredients and one Susie-homemaker recipe stand in his way of reaching his ultimate goal. Leveling a look that might kill the enemy at his iPad, Steve glared at the Pinterest page with an open hostility. The damnable cake was a masterpiece of beauty. It was a delicious, awe-inspiring kaleidoscope of sweet tasting colors on top of a gourmet chocolate foundation.

He could replicate that.

He had the tools.

He had the means … and almost twenty-four long hours to get it right. He would not be bested by an eggbeater and a few cups of flour!

Growling under his breath, Steve glared again at the picture. The funfetti cake batter cookie dough brownie layer cake was his to be had. With a studious hand, Steve counted out the dry products he'd already purchased with a proud glimmer.

 _Baking powder, chocolate chips, chocolate frosting, cocoa, flour, dry cake mix, powdered sugar, semi-sweet chocolate chips, sprinkles, and white chocolate_ _chips_ all fell happily under his hand and mental checklist. The wet ingredients were already accounted for in the refrigerator. But he stopped and blinked hard to be sure before pinching the screen on his iPad to enlarge the characters. Then he felt like sharply pinching the bridge of his nose in disbelief.

He'd inconceivably missed something.

"What the heck is _ganache_?" He griped under his breath, scowling darkly at the list of ingredients. "And one what? One cup? One container? One tablespoon?" He'd been to the store twice thus far for things he'd forgotten or overlooked. With a look of total disgust, he angrily slapped the kitchen towel over his shoulder.

He could pick another recipe. An easier boxed one.

Heck, he could even _ORDER_ a cake for his partner.

But Steve wanted to do something special for Danny. And now, his eyes … and stomach … were set on _this_ cake. It had to be the _Funfetti Cake Batter Cookie Dough Brownie Layer Cake_ or nothing at all.

With another sharp sound of annoyance, he slammed his iPad closed, left it on the kitchen table, and grabbed his truck keys.

 _ **~ to be continued ~**_


	2. Chapter 2

**I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.**

 **Notes:** Yes, as you probably know by now, the cake is real. Check it out on Pinterest if you haven't look already - the avatar to this story is that cake!

 **H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 **Birthday Wishes - chapter two**

"Did you click through to the actual page?" The young girl asked after Steve literally shoved his cell phone under her nose. He'd called the Pinterest page up with the laundry list of ingredients below the cake's perfect image.

"What click through? What _actual_ page?" Steve asked, his confusion growing in leaps and bounds as he blankly stared at the girl's smiling face. She was _much_ too happy for his current mood. "This _is_ the _page_ and the ingredients are listed right here. It says right here - under the picture - that I need 'one chocolate ganache'. I just want to buy it and I'm kind of in a hurry."

"No, no … you don't _buy_ it. You have to _make_ it," she smiled even more. Thrilled it seemed - as proven by the happy light in her eyes - for being able to offer even more help. Completely unaware that her customer's ire was increasing.

"If you click on the picture of the cake in Pinterest, you'll go to the actual recipe page where _all_ the instructions are."

" _All_?" Steve whispered, his eyes growing large in disbelief.

"Here, I'll show you." With that breezy comment, his phone was confiscated from his hand with ease. "Here ... look ... you'll see right _there_ that you can't actually _buy_ ready-made chocolate ganache. You'll have to make it from scratch."

"Crap," Steve breathed out as he began to feel the nasty fingers of defeat teasing his brain as he watched the girl quickly poke through his phone to the page in question. "There's more?" Then it was she who was brandishing the device back under his very nose. Sure enough, a rather lengthy section of his coveted cake recipe explained - in remarkable detail - exactly how to make chocolate ganache.

" _Crap_. There _is_ more," he said, stunned as he slowly began to scroll through the actual step-by-step instructions. "I can't do this. This is crazy."

"Sure you can! It's not that hard," she gushed, trying to soothe his growing unease with a patient smile. "Based on the cake recipe, you don't even have too much baking to do. It's all about assembling your ingredients and getting the right things mixed together at the right time."

She grinned at him to bolster his confidence. "It's a great cake! If you take your time and just read through the whole thing first before you begin, it'll be a snap and well worth it! Your girlfriend will love it!"

"Girlfriend!?" Steve barked without thinking, his eyes widening more when he realized what his slip of the tongue sounded like as her own eyes grew in kind.

"Sorry," she cringed, wincing at her apparent mistake. "Not ... girlfriend?"

"No. Just ...gimme that! " Steve coughed and stammered, his hands flying through the air as he grabbed his phone out of her fingers only to slam it in his pocket. His face was red by the time he poked her in the shoulder to get her moving down the aisle. "Just ... _just_ ... show me what I need."

Completely unconvinced of the intelligence of his plan by the time he'd scrolled down the entire page of baking instructions, Steve could only obediently follow the clerk around the store as she pushed a few additional items into his basket. After he paid for his newest purchases, he mumbled something just under his breath to her parting words of ' _good luck'._

 _Something_ which wasn't entirely meant for mixed company.

 **H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

"Sure … it's easy … piece of cake." Hours later, night had fallen and he was refusing to admit defeat. His fingers were beyond a reasonable level of stickiness, he'd used virtually every utensil in his possession and his patience had been shredded to a fine edge. Tired and cranky, he'd even missed his own dinner and in his frustration, had resorted to cursing the young store clerk profusely while mimicking her to his heart's content in the privacy of his own home.

"Bull crap … easy my _ass_ … make it from scratch she says … it'll be _such_ a snap!"

"Damn microwave," he growled, punching buttons after reading the manual which he'd dug up from some junk drawer he'd discovered in the bowels of his very kitchen. "Girlfriend. Seriously?"

The first batch of white chocolate chips had become a charred, odorous clump. The plastic wrap he'd diligently placed tightly over the glass bowl, had also melted into said clump of white _ick_ to create a toxic, plastic-like stew. His second attempt had only been better in that he'd used a paper towel instead of plastic wrap because it hadn't smelled quite as badly. However, he'd once again achieved burned chocolate chips morphed into an unusable whitish lump of clay decorated with damp bits of paper. His kitchen garbage pail was a mix of refuse from boxes, eggshells, plastic wrap and ruined mounds of grainy bits of ugly sugar.

"Half power," Steve muttered to himself as he thumbed through the microwave oven's old and dis-used instruction manual. He glowered angrily at the instructions which told him how to dial-down the power on his obviously very strong microwave.

"Half … _okay_ …. baby steps. Half power … _half_ the time … slow _baby steps."_

He might have ruined a number of things by that point, but Steve also had his successes. The brownie cake layers were perfectly baked and already well-cooled off to the side. It was the conquering of the chocolate which had his house almost reeking of burnt odors weirdly mixed with an honest-to-goodness sweetness. He bent down now, nose glued to the small window of the microwave oven as the turntable slowly spun with what might amount to his very last available bits of white chocolate.

"Please don't burn. Please don't burn," he chanted with a finger just poised over the stop button. _Just in case._

Steve was close to having used up the bag of white chips and he couldn't afford to ruin this batch. He couldn't even bear the thought of going out – _again_ – for more ingredients. Besides, this late at night, he'd be lucky if he found a store even open for business.

Any store.

"Oh ... _good_ ... that works." He heaved in a huge sigh of relief as the bits slowly and oh so carefully melted down to just the right consistency. Steve dared to smile as the timer binged and he took out a perfectly melted, soupy white pool of heaven.

"Thank you," he grinned in relief. But then his smile faltered and he gasped in shock, his eyes widening in disbelief for what he'd done.

 _White_ pool?

"No! No, no, no!" Steve's hands shook as he flew back to the iPad to double-check the recipe. It couldn't be true ... there was no way that he'd made such a huge mistake.

"Crap," he cursed because it just wouldn't be fair. His eyes flew down the recipe, sentence by sentence. Line by line. Ingredient by ingredient and ... then _stopped_ , his finger hovering as he rapidly read and reread through the part in question.

"Oh come on! _Crap_!" He shouted loudly at himself for his error because he'd just perfectly melted down ... the wrong flavor of chocolate chips.

 _ **~ to be continued ~**_


	3. Chapter 3

**I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.**

 **Notes:** oh dear ... what does Danny think?

 **H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 **Birthday Wishes - chapter three**

"He called in sick?" Danny said. He and Kono were sitting in his office. Three birthday cards were perfectly lined up near his desk phone. One from a group down in HPD, one signed from his team, and of course, one from Grace. But he was confused by Kono's relayed message and his fingers were drumming an impatient tattoo as he stared at her in disbelief.

" _He_ called in sick?" His tone was thick with a heavy dose of sarcasm as he leaned forward to be sure he'd heard correctly. "Steve … our _Steve_ … super SEAL McGarrett, himself … called in _sick_? This is a joke, right?"

"It's not a joke, Danny," Kono replied calmly, though her peeved expression communicated her own level of annoyance. Where Danny was utterly perplexed though, she was downright mad. "He's leaving me to handle this issue with HPD by myself this morning. How do you think I feel about it?"

"I'm sorry. But Steve McGarrett called in sick?" Danny barely heard Kono as he repeated what she'd said for the umpteenth time. His eyes narrowed suspiciously as he stared at her dark, bowed head so intently that she finally felt his gaze and looked up.

"What?" She asked, her lips pursed whitely in kind, eyes narrowing back at him just as severely. "I have to review these files and then get over to Duke's office. So what's the problem?"

"He's _my_ partner. Why'd he call _you_?" Danny pointedly demanded. "If he was going to be out today, he should have called me. So my question stands ... why did he call you?"

"What? Why does that matter?" Kono burst out defensively. She slammed the paper file closed, papers nearly falling out in her haste as she glared back at him. "Are you going to tell me that Steve can't call me once in a while? He knew you had Grace this weekend and had to drop her off at school this morning. _Maybe_ .. he was being _thoughtful_ , Danny. Maybe he even knew I'd be the first one in the office!"

Danny's loud snort sent the paper he'd been reading ruffling across his desk. His palm slapped it hard to forestall a fall to the floor as he leaned forward in askance. "Thoughtful? Are you serious?"

"Oh, and now Steve can't be thoughtful ... or not feel well?" Kono snarked back sharply. "The man is _sick_ , Danny, cut him some slack!"

"That's right! He called in _sick_ , Kono!" Danny exclaimed, the dark scowl saying just how thoroughly sarcastic he might become. "Steve called in sick ... on my birthday! How exactly is that being thoughtful! In fact, don't you think it's just a little bit odd?"

"Odd? Are you saying he planned to be out?" Kono almost growled her objection. There was no way on earth that Steve would be that low as to intentionally call in sick on Danny's birthday. Plus, there was absolutely no reason for it. "Are you really saying that Steve got sick on purpose; or worse yet, that he's not really sick at all because he wanted to avoid your birthday? That's the stupidest think you've ever said!"

"Well, that's the question isn't it?" Danny argued as he ignored her remark to lean back in his chair. "He's avoiding me ... on my birthday."

He couldn't remember a time when Steve had been actually sick; not even a head cold. Barely a sniffle. And if there ever had been the threat of something, he'd have downed over-the-counter meds and shaken the entire thing off in a heartbeat. In fact, Steve could get the snot beat out of him and still come to work the next day.

He could take a bullet, argue with a doctor, and still be in the office ... _the very next day_.

"Do you think he's _really_ sick?" Danny asked in a somewhat offended tone. "Or ... faking?"

"Why would he fake being sick on your birthday? He definitely sounded under the weather to me," Kono replied with as much honesty as she could muster. "He sounded awful, Danny. His voice was all raspy and he said that he was up all night. He _said_ that he was going to try to go back to sleep. He _promised_ that he'd call us ... he asked that we don't call _him_ unless it's critically important. So yes, it's probably safe to say that Steve is actually, truly and really sick! I'd bet that he forgot it was your birthday and he's going to feel really bad about it when he remembers!"

"Uh huh," Danny dead-panned before dramatically rolling his eyes toward the ceiling. "When he _remembers_? Nice."

"We can still go out for lunch together, Danny," Kono offered, her patience barely in control by that point. "The three of us can go - me, you and Chin - and then we'll go again when Steve's feeling better. It'll be like a double celebration. Get over it, _brah_!"

"Sure," Danny said, only slightly mollified by her continued stance and the way she dared him to continue down his current path of argument. With a pensive shake of his head, he quieted down and tried to shrug it off. The team could hold down the fort for the day and Kono was right, they could easily find another time to celebrate his birthday. But now, his birthday wasn't really the point.

 _Steve McGarrett, himself, had voluntarily taken a sick day._

"Hell hath frozen over," Danny muttered under his breath. "Or, maybe he shot his foot off cleaning his gun."

"Danny," Kono sighed in frustration. She'd heard him and was shaking her head in disgust as she got up, roughly pushing the chair back before leaving his office. In the doorway, she glared at him again before offering her parting remarks. "Why are boys are so _stupid_ sometimes?"

"I heard that!" Danny griped.

"You were supposed to!" Kono growled back, only stopping when Danny gestured wildly from where he remained seated.

"But I'm telling you right now, Kono. If he doesn't call after lunch, he's getting a personal visit!"

 **H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

Steve closed his eyes after ending his connection with Kono. He was tired and had a headache to boot, so it wasn't too difficult to play possum. She'd also been genuinely concerned about the gravelly nature of his voice during their short call. However, he could only imagine what Danny would say when he learned that he'd called in sick for the day. He didn't envy Kono for the rant which Danny would likely lob her way.

Steve groaned as he rubbed his burning eyes. He'd actually called in sick ... on Danny's _birthday._

"He's going to kill me," Steve muttered. The very day the entire team was supposed to take the birthday boy out to lunch and Steve had the gall to call in _sick_.

The excuse wasn't going to fly and he could just imagine the astounded look on Danny's face. He could literally hear the rant in his own head. In fact, Steve had just created an epic fail for himself if the damnable Funfetti Cake Batter Cookie Dough Brownie Layer Cake wasn't absolutely, utterly a fine work of tasty art.

Sometime during the wee hours of the morning and needing a break from his gourmet undertaking, Steve had begun to nod off standing up. He'd then taken a calculated risk by actually going to bed. He'd only woken a few minutes earlier, foggy-brained and still very tired. However, he only had a few more steps to follow in the process to complete Danny's birthday cake and taking that well-deserved mental break seemed like the best option to avoid the potential of any last minute mistakes.

But making that executive decision had left him only one option to ensure having enough time to put the finishing touches on the cake ... and that was to call in sick to work.

"Okay," he muttered under his breath as he stalked back into the kitchen. "I got this."

The truly most difficult parts had been conquered. His brownie cakes had been perfectly baked from scratch. With a few false starts, the cookie dough filling had eventually followed suit with barely enough of the remaining whole white chocolate chips to satisfy the recipe. Topping it off, he'd finally melted down and then assembled the ingredients for a tasty chocolate ganache which had reached its exact consistency. So hours later and by some divine miracle, his cake was assembled and in the fridge.

It looked - _good_. His birthday cake looked even damned better than just plain good and he was proud of having gotten so far. But it wasn't done; not quite yet finished for its final homemade frosting which required another go at the microwave using a few persnickety ingredients.

"Chocolate frosting and the final bit of decorating. I can do this ... I _can_." Steve heaved in a deep breath as he opened his iPad to the recipe. The frosting shouldn't be too difficult, but this was the most important step. Not only did it have to taste good, it had to _look_ even better. And the concept of piping the chocolatey confection in pretty swirls across the top of his masterpiece was a daunting concept.

"Okay, okay, okay," he muttered as he started to pull the remaining ingredients together. "Here we go. Step one is simple ... _first_ ... don't get ahead of _step one_ , McGarrett. Just focus on making the damned thing the right way."

Butter, shortening, powdered sugar, cocoa and milk were soon displayed across the kitchen counter in order of need and Steve inhaled another deep breath as he got down to business.

 _ **~ to be continued ~**_


	4. Chapter 4

**I do not own Hawaii Five-0 or any characters. No copyright infringement intended.**

 **Notes:** Happy Birthday My Queen - I hope your birthday wish for a birthday FF met expectations. I love that so many readers enjoyed this story, too!

 **H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O* H5O***

 **Birthday Wishes - chapter four**

"You don't look very sick," Danny bluntly stated. "But at least you _are_ home." He was standing on Steve's front step, arms laden with supplies he determined were needed to cure his ailing friend. However, while it was true that Steve was a bare-foot, rumpled, bleary-eyed mess and could barely focus as he cringed against the bright Hawaiian sunshine, he didn't look precisely _ill_.

"Of course I'm home; I said I would be." Steve cleared his throat, a hand waving weakly between the two of them. He blinked, muzzy-headed and confused. He'd slept much longer than he'd wanted based on the bright afternoon light streaming in through the front door. He winced at himself for daring to ask the most obvious of all questions which immediately rankled his partner. "Why are you here?"

"Why am I here? First, _you_ \- of all people in this universe - called in _sick_ ," Danny replied, both arms stopped from spreading wide to make his incredulous declaration known only by the large brown bag he cradled to his chest. He inhaled deeply, the next comments spilling from his mouth nearly all in one long breath.

"Secondly, because _you_ didn't call. _You_ didn't _call_ _me_ to be clear about things … and then, when I tried to call you ... you didn't answer your cell phone. Third, I figured you probably shot your own damned foot off and were bleeding to death on the kitchen floor." Through a steady glare, Danny leveled his own challenge at his partner as he shifted the shopping bag to the crook of one arm. Then, he very slowly held up four fingers to Steve's face. Waving all four like a banner, he set his jaw firmly when Steve outwardly cringed at what was to come.

"Last but not least, you called in sick on my birthday. So, I figured if you didn't hurt yourself, then surely you must really be dying of some godforsaken illness. So, Steven, all of these reasons are why I'm here." With that snarky comment left to linger, Danny brushed by Steve to leave him standing alone.

"Oh boy," Steve sighed out quietly as he forced himself to wake up faster. "Here we go." He dragged his hands over his face and scowled while he followed Danny into the living room, entirely confused by the contents of the bag which Danny was now pulling out one by one. Big boxes, small boxes, bottles and a box of tissues were eventually lined up along this coffee table.

"What is all that?" Steve asked warily as he spied a bottle of cough medicine, at least two brands of decongestants, then what looked like an all-purpose flu medication. And _god help him_ , a bottle with a nasty pink liquid that horrifyingly looked like something to treat constipation. But on its heels was a product for the exact opposite physical problem and Steve blanched at the startling array of supplies. "Danny, what are you doing ... and ... what is that ... _for_?"

"Sit," Danny demanded as he grabbed Steve's arm and pushed him into the sofa. He pursed his lips thoughtfully at the sight of mussed pillows and a spare blanket which his partner had obviously been wrapped up in before his unannounced arrival. Only partly convinced that Steve was sick and wondering how foolish he'd look for buying half a pharmacy, now Danny's mind was made up.

"Danny, …?" Steve started to talk, but was stopped by the rude placement of a thermometer directly into his mouth. "Hey!"

"Don't speak!" Danny glared at him, turning only to pull out the rest of what he'd bought at the store. Orange juice, ginger ale, crackers, cans of chicken noodle soup, and plain broth were soon neatly lined up next to what amounted to an obscenely worrisome volume of drugs.

"Danny," Steve began his mumble, the thermometer nearly falling from his lips. He caught it in his fingers at the last minute only to have his hand slapped away as Danny put it back where it had been. His lips parted in shock, a need to confess right there - the truth literally hanging in the air - when Danny _tsked_ at him loudly.

" _Shhh_!" Danny hissed, tapping his watch to continue timing the taking of his temperature. "Thirty seconds!" With a disgusted sigh as the time came due, he practically yanked the thermometer from Steve's mouth, eyes squinting as he tried to get a good read on the level of mercury.

"Damn thing doesn't work," he complained when he saw it registered a normal reading. "Open up, we're doing it again."

" _Danno!_ " Steve almost yelped as the tip of the thermometer snagged his tongue. His eyes grew in size as he stared up at his apparently very aggravated partner. He couldn't help but wonder if poor Grace had been subjected to such treatment. But of course that never could be the case because Danny's daughter would never ... _ever_ ... think of ditching her father on his birthday.

"Shut. Up. You." Danny exclaimed, his finger poking Steve in the shoulder as he enunciated each word. "We have to do it again because you screwed it up the first time! But, if it still doesn't work, don't worry because I have a backup."

With his mouth occupied, Steve hummed a nonsensical tune which clearly translated to _what is that!_ as Danny brandished a large white and blue box under his nose. Stunned by the appearance of a Thermoscan Ear Thermometer, Steve leaned back into the sofa, eyebrows raised comically and utterly giving in now to Danny's diabolical need to ensure he was:

 _A._ either sick, or _B_. totally shamming.

"Just so you know … this baby can be used in more places than just your ear," Danny smirked meaningfully as he unpacked the digital thermometer, his eyes gleaming as Steve's eyebrows disappeared completely into the furrows of his forehead. "And before you ask, the batteries are already installed, so it's ready to go. The pharmacist said it had ExacTemp Technology … can't go wrong!" He chuckled as Steve fidgeted uncomfortably into the cushions of the sofa, his arms crossed belligerently and very protectively over his chest.

Beginning to wonder if he'd ever survive the wrath of Danny Williams - or even the benevolent nursemaid which was evidently housed inside the man - Steve chuffed a disgusted sound under his breath. There was zero chance his partner would be able to touch him with what he was unwrapping now. But as Danny stayed distracted, Steve's fingers began a spider-creep along the sofa to snag his cell phone. With one finger, he found the camera app and got off three shots of Danny while he busily checked the time again.

Without thinking, Steve grinned as Danny yanked the manual thermometer from his mouth for the second time. Obviously, his temperature was indeed going to be quite normal as confirmed by the almost crestfallen look now gracing his partner's face. But his grin fled quickly as Danny whipped out the digital version like a weapon and aimed for his ear.

"Oh hell no!" Steve yelled in objection, his free hand batting Danny's away as he was hemmed in to his own sofa with no room for escape. There were certain lines he was going draw as Danny cocked his head in warning. "Back off! I'm _fine_ ... I'm okay!"

"No, you're obviously sick," Danny argued, wholly convinced by the relative condition of the sofa and the obvious fact that Steve truly had been napping when he'd arrived. His partner was disheveled and certainly hadn't budged from his house for the entire day. Danny made a disagreeable face as he dropped his hand, squinting in worry as he tried to gauge Steve's expression.

"Stomach then? Were you sick _sick_ ... I have things for that too."

Steve wilted entirely. He didn't know what to make of the walking, talking whirlwind of sarcastic concern which was now standing over him. Hands on hips and not knowing where to land, Danny finally ran out of words and sighed dramatically.

"What is it then?" Danny mumbled, his face running through every emotion imaginable.

"Happy Birthday," Steve whispered cautiously, a tiny smile flitting across his lips as he took an incredibly fast picture of Danny's expression, the man suddenly almost apoplectic at the move.

"What was that for!?" Danny barked, nearly dropping the digital thermometer as he backpedaled. " _Happy Birthday? Happy Birthday?_ And then you take my picture? Just like that when I wasn't even ready?! Did you hit your head and not tell anyone?"

"Hang on," Steve insisted. He reached up then, snagged Danny's arms and traded places with him in one smooth motion. Danny tripped over his own two feet and wound up landing precisely where he'd just been sitting, as his mouth gaped open.

"Now, _you_ stay," Steve demanded, his own finger waggling in warning to prevent Danny from budging a single inch.

Steve practically jogged into his kitchen. He'd gotten the chocolate frosting done in record time and an incredibly helpful YouTube video - which he wished he'd found in the first place - had provided the directions on how to make the prettiest of chocolate swirls and rosettes. He'd managed to make each one with an expert flare after some test runs using the most simple of tools: a small resealable plastic baggie with one bottom edge snipped off.

He'd finished the cake without issue and, figuring he had enough time left in the morning, had decided to take another nap with plans to show up at the restaurant for Danny's birthday lunch with Chin and Kono. But he'd overslept - _badly_ \- and the cake was still sitting right there in his house. He smiled proudly as he pulled Danny's birthday cake out from the refrigerator. He'd found a little used but ornate glass cake dish, cover and all. Now inside its place of honor, the finished product was indeed a study in perfection.

"Close your eyes!" Steve bellowed, peeking around the corner to make sure Danny hadn't moved. In his pocket, he had candles and matches ready to go. Things he'd also intended for the restaurant, but now was as good a time as any. "Close 'em, Danno!"

 _"Close 'em, Danno?"_ Danny groused back, arms now folded over his chest. "What - is that some sort of stupid new thing? _Close 'em, Danno?_ Are you going to shoot me now, too?"

Danny scrunched up his face as he debated disobeying. Happy Birthday? Just like that along with the stupidest of pictures? He managed to squint with his eyes closed as he pondered this sudden change of events. Steve hadn't been sick after all, but something was indeed up. _Something_ very intriguing, and so Danny did as he was told. He kept his eyes closed, stayed seated where he'd been dumped and even stayed relatively quiet when he sensed Steve's return.

"One second," Steve begged, the smile so evident in his voice that Danny had to allow one side of his mouth the courtesy of a happier tilt upwards. "No matter what happens next, keep your eyes closed!"

On the heels of his request, Steve pushed aside the array of medicines to slide the cake dish on the coffee table and coyly removed the glass cover. The smell of rich chocolate immediately wafted out and he snapped another picture as Danny reacted with a deep appreciative inhale. With no time to spare, Steve stuck a few candles in the cake's top and quickly lit them.

"Now," Steve said with a grand flourish as he took one step back from the best cake ever made within the four walls of his own home. " _Now_ look! Happy Birthday, buddy!"

Danny's eyes sprung open the moment he was given the go-ahead. His astonishment was genuine as he stared in awe at his birthday cake, his eyes shining as brightly as the candles.

"You _made_ me a cake?" Danny asked, dumbfounded by the sight. He blinked in confusion, slowly coming to the realization that Steve had called in sick because of what was sitting directly in front of him. Two layers of gooey chocolate and colorful sprinkles, topped with expertly twirled chocolate rosettes. Danny _knew_ what he was looking at, and he _knew_ that the cake must have taken Steve hours to perfect

"You baked _me_ a cake from _scratch_? It's ... fantastic. This ... this is absolutely ... _amazing_."

He ignored the flurry of pictures which Steve saw fit to rapid-fire from his cell phone. Each image better than the next as Danny's face morphed to settle on the goofiest, happiest face-splitting smile which Steve had ever been graced with.

"Happy Birthday, Danny," Steve repeated, beyond pleased by his friend's genuine reaction. For all intents and purposes, Danny was ... _radiant_ and Steve blinked at the transformation, stammering over his explanation of what he'd managed to create.

"It's all chocolate - white and milk with brownies for the cake part. I _wanted_ ... _well_ , I thought you might like it. You know what I mean. I meant to get it to the office ... or even the restaurant ... but I ran out of time. Then, I fell asleep ... and _well_ ... here we are."

"It's ... _I_ ... _wow_ ," Danny whispered. He stared at it, smiling in wonder and understanding that Steve had been up virtually the entire night trying to get it done. "You baked me a birthday cake," he repeated, the tone of his voice clearly communicating his ongoing delight around a smile which refused to quit.

" _Huh_ ," Steve smirked, his hands perched on his hips. "I never thought I'd see the day a Williams ran out of words. But you know, buddy, you better make a wish and blow those candles out before we have a bonfire."

Danny blinked wildly for a moment as he sidled to the edge of the sofa. He was beaming, but his eyes were full of tears. He couldn't find the right words to say; or any words at all for that matter and wishes seemed elusive as his brain short-circuited.

He glanced up at Steve and studied him for a long moment. He chuffed a sound that once more relayed his astonishment. "This is seriously the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me," Danny shared softly. Gifts could be bought and wonderful presents could be given. Birthday cakes could be ordered and be just as beautiful. But taking the _time_ to really create something with such personal care was simply ... special. He felt the same way about each and every handmade card his daughter had ever crayoned for him. Now, Danny had this amazing birthday cake from Steve.

"It's beautiful," Danny whispered. He leaned forward and hesitated again as if thinking deeply before blowing the candles out. He met Steve's eyes, grinning widely at seeing Steve's own delight. "Hey. Seriously, thank you."

Danny struggled to his feet, rounding on Steve to do the only thing he could think of next and Steve already had his arms out. "You're welcome, Danno," Steve said happily as Danny enveloped him in the one and only _Danny Williams hug_ ; a warm gesture that bespoke of wholeness and family.

"Steve?" Danny murmured softly into his chest, his voice muffled by Steve's shirt.

"Yeah, Danno?" Steve asked innocently.

"You're forgiven ... _this_ time."

 _ **~ END ~**_


End file.
